<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>As Long as We're Still Breathing, There'll Be Somewhere Left to Run by Stormregard</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365419">As Long as We're Still Breathing, There'll Be Somewhere Left to Run</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormregard/pseuds/Stormregard'>Stormregard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Asexual Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone is also gay but that's just a coincidence, Fjord is in charge, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Not Canon Compliant, Tour Bus, Trust me it'll be fine, everyone is human, heh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:40:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,996</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365419</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormregard/pseuds/Stormregard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seize the night, try your best to lose sense of time. Because it's the last one. It's the last tour. He's determined. He's done. Managing is not what it used to be. He's different now. He's changed. He's over it. He's...extremely thrown off by the introduction of this very tall, bubblegum haired man, but that is entirely not the point.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Caduceus Clay/Fjord</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They both stormed out of the studio, one after the other, mere moments after the meeting ended. Beau was likely mostly only storming <em>after </em>him, and although they both knew that, she remained a worthy ally when prompted. When the door didn’t slam as satisfyingly as anticipated, she opened it and slammed it again, throwing a lewd gesture at the security guard for good measure. Still, only a block later, Beau seemed to deflate and freeze.</p><p>“What, no…We were storming off! ” Fjord complained, stopping by the wall with her and folding his arms as she lit a cigarette. “Thought you were quitting," he grumbled darkly toward the lit end.<br/><br/>She glared at him and took a long drag.</p><p>“I just give up," she complained. </p><p>Somehow, he didn't think they were talking about the smoking. "Don’t you? We always do this. We argue and fight with her, try to make her see reason, and then we go. It’s been that way the whole time. You don’t even remember.</p><p>Fjord sighed, reaching out to take her cigarette. She shook her head at him. “Nope,” she declared. “You <em>did </em>quit. I’m not helping you relapse."</p><p>"It's hardly 'relapsing' to just —" he started. </p><p>Her signature glare, the withering gaze she didn't always know she was wearing, stopped him short. Even after all this time, Beau could be menacing if he wasn't careful.</p><p>"I'm done, too," he agreed. "But I'm not giving up. This has to be the last one, Beau. Even the most loyal fans are not going to keep coming back if she doesn't even want to write something new." </p><p>She laughed at him loudly, making two people passing by look at them in confusion. </p><p>“First of all,” she declared, “you know that isn't true.”<br/><br/>“I’m serious. I can’t keep organizing these fucking tours and pretending this is fine.”</p><p>“And second,” she continued, ignoring him as she pushed off the wall. “If you actually care about the <em> variety </em> of the shows....” </p><p>But now it was his turn to interrupt. He righted himself quickly and literally covered her mouth with his hand. A moment after she licked his palm, he finally let go, wiping his hand on his jeans and cursing Jester for teaching her that trick. Beau had definitely not worked that one out on her own.<br/><br/>“Shut up," he whined. "Please. Stop. Right now. Let’s not do this. We are the only two not fighting right now, Beauregard.”<br/><br/>“Technically," she countered, "I don’t think Caleb even knows yet. And Nott is so much happier on the road that you know she won’t care.”<br/><br/>Fjord sighed, rubbing his temples. “So I'm the only one who cares? This is all because of me? Is that what you mean?<br/><br/>“No!” she shouted. “No. You...you did what you had to do! We all...we all appreciate you for that, you know that. And you’re probably right. The revenue is down. There’s been no new merch in like three years."</p><p>"Why do I feel like I'm already upset that you just said 'you're right'," he grumbled. </p><p>"Well…." </p><p>"Beau." </p><p>"It’s such an easy fix! We can control <em>everything</em>," she insisted. </p><p>“No.” Fjord grabbed her arm to make her stop walking. “That's what she wants you to believe. What <em> he </em>wants you to believe."</p><p>"We'll be there this time. It won't be the same." </p><p>"Seriously, Beau. Out of the question.”</p><p>“It's two shows, Fjord,” she sighed. “Two shows in an itty coastal town no one cares about, and we're free from it all of it—”  </p><p>“I won't do it. At best, it's selling out. Vandren would kill me.”</p><p>Beau sighed at him, put a heavy hand on his chest, and put her smoke out at her feet. “Babe. Vandren isn't here.”<br/><br/>“Don’t I know it,” he muttered. She knew she'd won. He could already feel the tension building in his shoulders. She was right, and he hated it. There was no way they ended this without just agreeing to the original terms. She knew it the second she looked back at him. She smiled a sad, resigned smile. </p><p>“If we do it, we can demand a proper roadie bus this time?”</p><p>“Yeah. Fine,” he sighed. "Can we at least <em> pretend </em> it'll be a coach and not a <em> bus </em> ?”<br/><br/>“Roadie Coach!” Beau tried to cheer. Fjord slapped her head gently before taking her coffee. He’d pay for it later, but right now, he needed it more than she did. </p><hr/><p>Four weeks later, he was twenty-four tour meetings, seven-hundred-and-ten emails, and several thousand hours of phone deep into his regret. He should not have agreed to manage this one. His heart wasn’t in it, his mind was living six months from now when it was all over, and most importantly, there was dissent in the ranks of his most loyal crew. He didn’t want to do it without them, but he had to admit that if they didn’t work some shit out soon, he was going to have to investigate some replacements. </p><p>He’d finally found some time between phone meetings to grab a shower in his <em>own </em>frigging flat, and the hot water had been primed through running it for too long to be eco friendly. He was going to stand under that stream until it ran out if it was the last thing he did. He’d paid so much in water task in this stupid place and he was literally never home. A fact that was made clear to him five minutes into his shower when Beau stormed into the flat and directly into the bathroom. </p><p>“Fjord!” she shouted, her unmistakable accent adding a twang to his name he still wasn’t tired of.<br/><br/>“Beauregard, a little privacy. For the sake of all that is holy. I’ll be out...soon.”<br/><br/>“Whatever,” she returned. A peek through the curtain informed him that she had settled herself in a signature crouch on the closed toilet and was going nowhere. He sighed loudly enough for her to look up. “What!? I have things to tell you, and it’s not like I’m interested in anything that’s going on in there. You just go ahead and do what you need to. Nothing I haven’t heard before, <em> Captain </em> .”<br/><br/>He scowled at her for good measure but relented. It wasn’t going to accomplish anything to try and get her to leave, and he was wasting the heat. “Alright, what’s so important.”<br/><br/>“Caleb’s agreeing to come,” she said loudly. “But he demanded his own set of noise-cancelling headphones because he says if he’s expected to work a tour <em> and </em> finish his dissertation, he can’t be—and I quote— ‘constantly awoken by you <em> laut arschlochs’.” </em> </p><p>Fjord laughed. “I am pretty sure that can be arranged. I really don’t want to be trusting anyone else with the lighting and pyrotechnics. Does that mean Nott will come too?”<br/><br/>“She said if Caleb gets headphones, she wants a personal bar in her seat. And free access to every stage a full twenty-four hours before they’re performing. None of this ‘90 minutes for outside crew bullshit’.”<br/><br/>“I already got everyone on board with that,” Fjord growled, knowing he wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the water. “Fine. And Molly?”<br/><br/>“Still a no. He says he’s not coming if Caleb is coming, and that he can’t leave his job right now.”<br/><br/>Fjord cursed loudly and gave up on peaceful showering. He washed the soap from his hair and ripped the curtain open. Beau innocently held a towel out to him and he pointedly rubbed it through his hair first. </p><p>“I tried,” she said defensively. “I really did. Don’t fuck anyone on tour. It’s a simple rule. This is why.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, well…” Fjord grumbled. “Speaking of...Yasha?”<br/><br/>Beau’s face darkened immediately and she stood so violently that Fjord had to stop himself from backing up into the tub. He always forgot how dangerous it could be to piss Beauregard off until he was face to face with it. But she simply huffed out a hot breath, gave him the finger, and stormed from the bathroom.<br/><br/>“Unnecessarily low blow, asshole.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, fine. Sorry.” He wrapped his towel around his waist and followed her out. When she spun to face him, he held up his hands defensively.<br/><br/>“She’s going to meet us at the first big city. I can handle it until then. And stop making that face at me. I can. We managed without a motherfucking ‘ <em> head of security’</em>. And also—enough, with the Yasha stuff. It’s...it’s complicated enough as it is.”<br/><br/>He smiled sadly. “I know, Beau. I do. I really am sorry. Is Jester—”<br/><br/>Beau’s face brightened a fraction as she smiled back. “Yeah, positively pumped. Apparently, she redesigned the t-shirt again this week, but <em>her majesty </em>actually approved it so all the merch is in production and will be ready. And she’s making some sort of set banner.”<br/><br/>“So we get to play a game of ‘find the hidden dicks’,” he replied with a chuckle. “I’m so glad she’s around.”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Beau smiled, the blush that hit her cheeks only evident because he knew her so well. He chose to ignore it. Regardless of whatever tension Beau was going to both create and then have to negotiate, he was very happy they’d have Jes along. She was secretly his favourite — very secretly, to the point where it was possible even she didn’t know, but that was beside the point.<br/><br/>“So like, not that I don’t appreciate the visit,” he said, drying his hair with a second towel, “but this all feels like it could have been a text message?”<br/><br/>Beau sighed, collapsing onto the sofa. “Yeah. That part, definitely. Go put on some pants and then I’ll tell you the rest.”<br/><br/>“Pants.”<br/><br/>“Pants,” she repeated.<br/><br/>He screamed gently into the air, already anticipating the worst, and pulled on the sweats he’d found before hitting the shower. “Alright, pants on. What did she do now?”<br/><br/>“Not her,” Beau winced. </p><p>“Oh, <em>God</em>. No,” Fjord grimaced back.<br/><br/>“‘Fraid so. Q wants you to meet a new <em>wellness coach.</em> Swears he’ll be essential on the trip. Won’t come unless you put him on the roadie bus. You know. The usual.”<br/><br/>“And Ley is, of course, agreeing to this?”<br/><br/>“When has she ever said no when Q is involved. Shirt next. We’re going now.”<br/><br/>“Going where?” Fjord groaned. </p><p>“The bus!” she offered. “You like the bus.”<br/><br/>“I like the bus when it contains only the people I hire,” Fjord moaned. “I dislike it when the bus is full of the weird hippies our esteemed bass player likes to befriend.”<br/><br/>“Ain’t our lives interesting?” Beau teased. “Shirt. Let’s go.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Thankfully, the constant London drizzle that was October seemed to have decided to give them a break for the afternoon, so he and Beau were dry when they finally emerged from the tube and hit the rented lot where the coach was still parked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if he lived to regret every other component of this concert tour, Beau was right; Fjord </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>liked the bus. The coach might just be his biggest career win. It was only thirty feet long, meaning it was dwarfed significantly by the giant, violently purple monstrosity that the band travelled in, but both bore the silver lettering declaring </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Bright Queen on tour</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so he'd live with Jester’s frequent dick size-related jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the fact that the crew coach looked pedestrian by design, Fjord considered it every bit as perfect. There were spaces for all six of them to sleep, a tiny kitchen, places for them to sit, if not overly comfortably, at least all at once for when the time required it. He’d even managed to convince the studio to hire a driver, so he, Caleb, and Beau wouldn’t have to trade off the many hours of driving they normally did. It was miraculous. The luxury of the inside reminded him every time that his little trio band had actually made it; they were so far beyond the days of Beau managing the unruly Leylas Kryn and her incredible talent into every coffee house stage from here to the end of the continent. Fjord didn’t know where the time had gone. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Stop it,” Beau said, punching him hard in the arm. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Ow! Stop what!” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’re getting sappy. I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>it from here. Stop being weird.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I’m not weird, you’re weird,” he mumbled, pulling open the door of the carriage and wincing as he heard the loud, abrasive laugh of Quana. He steeled himself and stepped up the two short steps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found her sitting with her back to him, her long, dark purple hair shaking over the back of the bench seat as she laughed heartily at the man sitting across from her. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge </span>
  </em>
  <span>man sitting across from her. Even sitting, Fjord could tell that he had to be at least 6’6, possibly taller. He had a shock of bubblegum pink curls that flowed down a white, pirate-appropriate shirt on one side, and ended in a smoothly shaved undercut on the other. Fjord wouldn’t have been surprised to find a pink beard as well, though further quick glances found a clean-shaven face and wide, kind-looking brown eyes. Fjord was immediately aware of two things. One, he wasn’t entirely sure why this man, this </span>
  <em>
    <span>giant</span>
  </em>
  <span>, was agreeing to spend six-months on a cramped coach bus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And two, that the Nein would eat this poor, peaceful human alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, polite to a fault, Fjord stepped into the bus fully, hand already extended. “Afternoon, Quana,” he said too loudly. “Hi, there...uh, sir. I’m Fjord.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The man stood up, bending his head slightly to stand up fully and proving that he did, in fact, have at least a half a foot on him. “Caduceus Clay. Lovely to finally meet you, Mr Fjord. I’ve been hearing great things about the whole Bright Queen crew. Hullo again, Beauregard.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hey, Cad. Hey Q.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Q, who spent as little time talking to Beau as was humanly possible, merely inclined her head, barely acknowledging their presence as usual. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Mr Clay will be joining us for the European leg of our tour. To take over from Mr Tealeaf.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Quana,” Fjord declared, letting enough of his authority out that she looked at him sharply. “Q, we’ve talked about this. If you don’t let me do the hiring, then—”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Fjord here has gotten it into his head that he’s in charge,” Q sneered, looking back at Clay with a quirked eyebrow. He blinked at her, then smiled a strange, placid smile that didn’t seem to quite fit his face or quite reach his eyes. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Forgive me,” he said innocently. “I thought you had said he was the band manager.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“He is,” Beau supplied jovially, crossing her arm in a clear challenge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, then he’s right,” Clay continued, that same bland, unperturbed tone settled into his deep voice. “He does the hiring. It’s quite alright. I have my references if he needs them. I don’t want to cause any discomfort. You can go, Ms Kryn. I’ll call you later with that oat recipe.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord waited on bated breath for Quana’s reply; he knew her well enough to know that there had been enough tone in the entire conversation to piss her off. No one ever dared talk to her that way. In fact, even Ley rarely interjected when it came to Q. She was too irritating to deal with when pissed off, though even Fjord had to admit she could really use some humility every once in a while. She opened her mouth a few times, as though trying to decide on a reaction. She studied Clay for a moment, then took a deep breath and nodded. She intentionally pushed past Fjord and sneered when Beau expertly manoeuvred herself out of the way. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you at practice tomorrow, you two,” she said sourly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now then,” Clay said the second she was off the bus. “Can I get you two some tea?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“S-sorry, some...what?” Fjord hadn’t been offered tea since he was about eleven and sitting, against his will, in his adoptive gran’s grim flat, waiting for Vandren to pick him up from a late-night supply run. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tea,” Clay repeated, apparently unbothered by Fjor’s confused fluster. “I brought some of my own blend. It’s quite good for hot days.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Beau agreed immediately, vaulting herself over the back of the leather bench and settling in beside an unmoving window. She immediately looked at ease, as Beau often did when she wasn’t trying to talk to a pretty girl. Fjord took a deep breath and forced himself to sit. Better to get the interview over with quickly so he could move on with his day. There was no way he was taking a complete stranger with them for what was absolutely going to be his last tour, so he might as well make that clear right away. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“So, Mr Clay,” he began, “have you been on many tours?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus laughed as he puttered about with the electric kettle on the sideboard. It was a deep, hearty sound, so intense and genuine that it seemed like it </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be rattling the bus, even though it definitely wasn’t. Fjord found himself even more baffled. He’d asked what he assumed was the expected first question. Either he was really off his managerial game, or this man was completely nuts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment’s chuckle, Clay cleared his throat. “Goodness, no. This is the farthest I’ve ever been out of Cardingham.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Cardingham?” Fjord repeated, his brain furiously trying to place and make sense of the new information. “You...but you, uh, you don’t have an..forgive me, you sound like you’re…” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Canadian?” Clay laughed again. “Yes. I get that a lot. It’s...complicated.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>From someone else, Fjord might have been unnerved by this explanation-less explanation, but for whatever reason, he found himself smiling at Beau, who shrugged and smiled back. There was a possibility that Fjord was just going to have to take this whole interaction as it was. It was clearly not going to be an information-gathering mission worth much. He had no idea what was happening right now. This was not like him, especially when it came to the band. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>get </span>
  </em>
  <span>flustered. He didn’t stutter or hesitate. He tried again. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Right. Well then. I mean...I can’t promise the glamour you’ve seen on the telly.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I wouldn’t really know what you mean by that. Never had one,” Caduceus declared, quietly placing a cup in front of all three of them. “Not much by way of electricity where I grew up. I met Quana at a retreat.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I figured,” Beau added genially. She grinned as Clay set some tea in front of them and went back for his own cup. “I mean no offence here, but...you aren’t the first she’s—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beau,” Fjord interjected. “Listen, she collects people, our Q. It’s innocent enough, but I’ll be honest with you, your job description will always remain vague at best. The pay is shit, and you’ll have to be comfortable living </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>. In this </span>
  <em>
    <span>bus, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the most part. There will never be privacy or enough room. We do a few scattered nights in hotels, I guess, but mostly it's gruelling hours and not much downtime.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Understood,” Clay replied, sitting down from them. His knees almost touched both Beau and Fjord, as if to highlight Fjord’s point. He shrugged, lifting his tea to his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you want to do that?” Fjord pressed. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Clay set his mug back down and templed his fingers in front of his face. His eyes projected such a quiet, calm in their over-large deep brown way that Fjord was tempted to think he was currently meditating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adventure?” he finally settled on, softly dropping his hands to the table and fixing a firm yet encouraging gaze on Fjord. His small smile was still there, like Fjord was expected to answer a test question that had no correct answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord looked at Beau. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t reading this situation very well. He felt uncomfortable and supported at the exact same time, content and exasperated in equal measure. He had no idea how to proceed. She grinned at him and he knew she had felt the exact same way upon meeting this man. She stuck her hand out to Clay and smiled at Fjord. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to the team, Cad. Prepare yourself for the insanity of the Nein.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clay’s face broke into a wide grin. This time, the smile asked no one of anything. Fjord realized, now that the tension was gone, that this gigantic, pleasant human had actually been </span>
  <em>
    <span>nervous </span>
  </em>
  <span>to meet him, and he almost felt guilty for a moment before remembering that he’d worked hard to build up this very important reputation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why ‘the nine’?” Clay asked a moment later. “I thought the band was called ‘The Bright Queen’?” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Well…” Fjord began, looking to Beau for help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Cad—wait, can I call you that? Cad? Don’t do well with long names... Cad, it’s like this. There’s a story. It’s a long story. And basically no one remembers it. This tea is fucking amazing, man.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Caduceus said, as genuine as he had been since the beginning, but also seeming to have a slight blush that was only just creeping past his ears. He smiled at her again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She means it. If you don’t tell her now, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>call you Cad for all eternity.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cad is just fine by me,” he replied, taking another sip of his tea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord smiled; they had a crew. It was as bizarre as the crew had always been, and it was going to be just as disastrous as it always was. But, he looked around the coach that may actually be slightly larger than his apartment (for now, while it wasn’t holding six regular-sized humans and now this behemoth), he felt like they’d all survive this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least one last time. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Brunch was already in full swing when Fjord finally arrived at The Breakfast Club. Caduceus had waited quite comfortably outside, watching subtly as the scene through the window unfolded. He recognized Beauregard, of course, and the cacophony of noise that appeared as the other members of the crew showed up put him at ease. He could practically feel the love through the glass. He knew he was making the right decision, the perfect plan. He was satisfied that everything was okay. Which made it complicated for him that he’d waited for the manager before going in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was swinging his keys in his hands when he noticed Caduceus was standing sheepishly in the door, watching his approach, trying not to startle him as he arrived; he was clearly distracted with a million tiny problems, his furrowed brow marring otherwise smooth face that made him seem younger than Caduceus figured he was. No doubt stress, lack of sleep, this job that relied on midnight shows and constant travel had taken their toll on the man, it’s just that they appeared to show up in other ways. Fjord, Caduceus had noticed in their brief greeting, had very tired-looking hands, grey hairs at the base of his neck where the green dye had faded, and a nervous jiggle to his leg that was likely just from too much caffeine. He’d earned his distraction, though, which forgave him missing the giant, pink-haired man who was quite clearly waiting for him. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh, Mr Clay. Morning. Are they not here yet - oh no, they are. Come on in. Sorry, we’re you waiting long? I should have texted Beau...ran late. Car is not as reliable as it has been. Don’t exactly do a great job of keeping it up to service.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Caduceus chuckled and held open the door. “I wasn’t waiting long. I just don’t always know how to introduce myself. Figured I would...wait.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Fjord looked at him then, and there was such a look of complicated understanding there that he wanted to reach out and pat his shoulder. He only just managed not to, which even of itself felt odd. He didn’t usually refrain from his impulsivity. It had always served him well. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Sorry, Mr Fjord,” he said. “I should have just gone in.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, it was Fjord’s turn to chuckle. The tension immediately broke between them, and Fjord reached over to clap him on the shoulder. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Just Fjord, please,” he replied. “There’s really no need to apologize. Trust me, you’re going to wish you had waited another ten </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> once you’ve me this lot.” </span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But he ended his very large breakfast of pancakes and mushrooms and a few extra slices of orange that he stole from the tops of people’s smoothies not feeling any regret at all. In fact, he sat back from the table and grinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” he said, possibly interrupting at least one squabble in favour of having them all turn to look at him. “I think we are going to have quite a good time on this adventure,” he declared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tiny woman, the one called Nott, whose job description he did not really understand yet, sat up and raised her coffee mug to the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re very strange, sir,” she said. “But, I think I like you. To a good time on the adventure!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huzzah?” Caleb, the ginger-haired sad man to her left chimed in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the table joined in and clinked glasses with him, Caduceus watched Fjord smile the first genuine smile he’d seen yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup. An <em>excellent</em> time,” he muttered to himself. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caduceus, not used to having to learn new things about anyone, realized very quickly that he was going to be at a disadvantage for a little while while he got used to being on the bus. The realization came immediately and without preamble when he arrived at the meeting spot at eight in the morning the Thursday after brunch. </p><p>He was met by Caleb, who was leaning on the side of the coach, with the luggage compartment open and a cigarette sticking out of his mouth. He looked almost like he was trying to be intimidating. It might have worked if it hadn't been for the nervous quiver of his hands. He lifted one in a half wave as Caduceus approached. </p><p>"Hello, Mister Widowgast," Caduceus called instead of returning the gesture. </p><p>"I must insist on Caleb," the man replied, stubbing out his butt and then, with what looked like a healthy dose of guilt, he stooped to pick it up. "Filthy habit," he said apologetically as he rose. "Keep meaning to quit. Will quit. Just need to finish the PhD, I think. Stress is…"</p><p>"I have some lovely teas that may help with the cravings," Caduceus offered delicately. </p><p>Caleb smiled tightly, looking around him suddenly. "Would you like help with your other bags? Forgive me, I missed you pulling in." </p><p>"This is it," Caduceus replied, gesturing to his pack.</p><p>When he'd left with Quana, he'd been embarrassed by the amount he decided was necessary to his continued existence for the next six months. So many material things would have made his father frown. His old, tattered army bag was bursting to the seams with his crystals and tea assortment, his many pairs of glasses, one extra pair of worn leather shoes, and — most shamefully of all — no fewer than six dog-eared, well-read paperbacks that he'd eventually decided he could not leave behind. </p><p>"Really?" Caleb said, a look of utter confusion on his face. </p><p>"I'm sorry. I can repack if there isn't enough space." </p><p>Caleb burst into shocked laughter, the sound abrupt and disjointed. Caduceus found he liked it. It was so <em> real </em>, so unfiltered. It was the most genuine thing he'd discovered about the man yet, and it went a long way toward making it easier for him to like. </p><p>Caduceus didn't really trust Caleb yet. It was clear that he had baggage, but it was even clearer that he wasn't ready to work through it yet. He was still forcing himself to atone for something, though even now, Caduceus could tell it was more complicated than he was allowing himself to realize. But it didn't matter. Everyone could come to their own person at their own pace. It wasn't his job to determine the paths of others. He simply had to remain on his own.</p><p>"No," Caleb said now, suppressing a second chuckle. "<em>Nein, </em>I am sorry. I was just imagining what it will be like when Jester finds out that's all you've brought. Prepare yourself, <em> Baumann."</em></p><p>Caduceus smiled despite himself. "Tree man?" he asked innocently. </p><p>"I meant no offense by— you speak German?" </p><p>"Only a little. But don’t worry, I like it," Caduceus replied mildly. "I've never had a nickname before. Now I have two." </p><p>Caleb smiled shyly and nodded. "Get used to that, I'm afraid. Come. I'll show you where your bunk is." </p><p>The tour introduced him to everyone all over again. How a twenty foot by three foot space could require a tour was a mystery to him, but by the time the driver asked them all to find somewhere to actually sit, he had a better idea of the people he would be spending all his time with than he did of all the cubbies and secret compartments of the bus. </p><p>For example, Nott. Fiercely protective, even from the first moment. Confusing in her own way, but definitely protective first and foremost. A mother, perhaps? She was running, that was for sure, though he'd not figured out if it was from or to. Not that it mattered.</p><p>Her position on the team was similarly opaque. He had gotten some vague answers from the crew when he'd asked, and Fjord had more than once jokingly said something about "powder monkey", but he was still baffled. She could very well have been there simply as emotional support to Caleb, pyrotechnics manager, and he's have accepted that as a necessary position. Particularly since Caleb was apparently also trying to complete a long-distance research project for his PhD. He'd explained the whole thing to him, but it was based on something complicated that Caduceus had already forgotten. </p><p>Beauregard was the most transparent of the lot, though he could tell she didn't like to think of herself that way. Family issues wrapped in a complex identity problem and a sexuality that she'd only just decided to be secure in. She was also the most open to his help, so they'd get along fine, in the long run. </p><p>This part was easy. Reading people took no skill or time. It was, at least for him, the opposite of what most people thought about the secluded or reclusive. When you don’t spend a lot of time around them, people become simple to understand. Subterfuge and camouflage are meaningless when the emotions and the energy you leave behind in a room are both screaming long after you are gone. </p><p>It was the second step he tended to struggle with. The interacting, the <em> responding </em>. He got too lost in his own feelings about a situation, his own awe at the human nature or spirit of wills. He'd spend ten minutes contemplating how wondrous it was that someone could feel so much at once, and as he did, he'd zone out long enough that conversation and attention had rightly moved on. </p><p>Dealing with the complexities of people was exhausting. </p><p>Fjord stepped onto the coach last, and Caduceus wondered if it was an intentional habit to always be the last to arrive, or if the man was just one of those people that felt on time was early. Either way, it was intriguing in a person that seemed otherwise fastidious and measured. He was hiding something, but not the same way Caleb was. He wasn’t trying to cover up that he was hiding something, he just was. He dared you to ask him about it. Let you wonder who he was underneath the easy smile and quiet authority. Caduceus might have found that more interesting if he wasn’t doing the very same thing most of the time. </p><p>“Alright, everyone settle, for the love of all that is holy,” Fjord called into the bus as he stepped inside. “Okay. So. I make this same speech every time we leave and no one ever actually cares. But I’m doing it again and you’ll all sit quietly while I do or so help me—“</p><p>“Beau,” Nott interrupted. “Does he think he seems intimidating when he does this?” </p><p>“Unclear,” Beau replied, feigning deep consideration.  </p><p>Fjord sighed, bracing himself on the driver's window divider. “Guys. I’m just trying to…” </p><p>“Sorry!” Jester called out, glaring back at the rest of them from where she was curled up on one of the normal bus seats that doubled as armchairs right at the front. </p><p>In his quick assessment of his new crew, Caduceus had immediately liked Jester. He couldn’t even really say why. She seemed <em>sneaky</em>. She had double meaning in her mouth at all times, and he could tell he was going to have to keep an eye on her almost constantly. But beneath that, there was such genuine goodness, in a style that he had rarely seen in things that weren’t forest creatures. From her bright blue hair to her outrageous jewelry, she exuded a sort of barbed loveliness that warranted protection. She didn’t need his protection, he was pretty sure. She seemed to have been taking care of herself for longer than her age would suggest had been appropriate. But still. The others seemed to feel the same. She cared for them so aggressively that they did the same back. </p><p>Fjord smiled at her and took a slow, deep breath.</p><p>“I just wanted to remind you that this is not a normal tour. We don’t have new stuff. We don’t have the openers. We literally serve at the pleasure of the Bright Queen insanity. We’re going to have fanatics. And I know we can handle that, but if anyone gets tired, needs a break, take it. I'm serious. Let’s not have a repeat of the whole...thing.” </p><p>“I feel as though we need to be saying his name,” Caleb added quietly. </p><p>Fjord nodded and cleared his throat. “The situation with Molly was...difficult. And we need to keep that in mind. And we aren’t going to rehash it all, because we are not going to repeat it. Right?” </p><p>Despite the obnoxious, teacher-like tone with which the question was asked, Caduceus was surprised when it was met with nods and avoided gazes. Clearly, he was missing <em>that</em> story. He didn’t feel like he needed it. </p><p>“Clay here is ready to talk to anyone about anything. He’s going to do meals while we’re on the road, because none of you ever fucking eat. And I tried to make the actual 'road' part of the schedule as light as possible. We’re in hotels at least every other night.” </p><p>Nott snickered. “Beau will be happy about that.” </p><p>“Fuck off,” Beau replied, throwing an obscene gesture and a smile to the other woman, who stuck out her tongue. </p><p>“We don’t have Yasha until the next leg, so we’ll all need to step up and help Beau until then,” Fjord continued, ignoring the exchange. “I obviously hired back up for the front of house, but, we all know how Ley gets about outside staff, so…” </p><p>“It’ll be fine, Fjord,” Jester said reassuringly. “We’ll always be backstage. Plus, look how tall the new guy is!” </p><p>“Hey,” Beau protested. “New guy is not a thing we’re going to do. Cad is crew.” </p><p>“I know! I love his hair. I’m going to braid it sooo often,” Jester said, bouncing a bit in her seat and throwing him a beatific grin. He smiled back. He’d be happy to have his hair braided. It had been too long since his sisters had left.</p><p>“God, Caduceus, sorry,” Fjord declared, as though suddenly remembering how little information he had. “I’m speaking Greek here.” </p><p>“I’m a quick learner,” Caduceus reassured him, turning his smile to their manager. “Don’t worry about me.” </p><p>Fjord seemed comforted, which made everyone else relax. </p><p>“Well then,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this the fuck over with, shall we!?” </p><p>And, with no more preamble or consideration, The Bright Queen was back on the road. </p><hr/><p>The first two weeks were completely unremarkable. Fjord was already exhausted by the end of the first set of weekend shows, but he figured that was a combination of age and being rusty in the whole ‘staying up till 5 am’ thing. He’d get back into the swing of it and they’d be fine. Though, he was grateful he’d had the forethought to book hotels as much as he could. As wonderful as it was having the bus available, he’d been right. They only just barely fit. The bunks were usable for day naps when they had to check out after three hours of sleep, but they may have murdered each other without a proper bed as often as possible. </p><p>The immediate impact of being back together 24/7 was comforting, even he had to admit. Every other hotel night, he’d wake up to find a puddle of various combinations in the bed opposite him. Beau and Caleb often ended up there first, and he knew it was because neither of them did a very good job of sleeping alone. Even when Beau would mysteriously disappear for a few hours after a show, she’d end up back in the biggest bed to sleep the rest of the night. Nott, who usually ended up as close to Caleb as she could, would curl into the chair in his room. Fjord would grumble, wondering aloud why he’d bothered booking them all separate double rooms, but he not-so-secretly loved knowing where they all were even once the hotel walls divided them. He didn’t trust many people, so it was easier when all the people he did trust were within eye range. </p><p>To his complete delight and utter lack of surprise, Caduceus seemed to fit right in. He was quiet and often waited a long time before adding an opinion to a conversation, but the others listened to him when he spoke — which was nothing short of a miracle. He’d make them bizarre and delicious lunches, which everyone ate without complaint, and there was always a carafe of hot tea available at any given moment. </p><p>Even when Fjord found Frumpkin on board a week in and he’d been ready to fully attack Caleb Caduceus fixed it. Despite the fact that they'd had the conversation about how inappropriate it was to have the cat on board, no matter how small and quiet he was, Caduceus insisted that it was good for morale. For whatever reason, Fjord actually listened and managed to calm down enough to let it go. He was sort of like having a large, sentient teddy bear on board; even Jester was more subdued around him. Fjord quickly grew used to his stabilizing presence, though he’d never admit it to Q if pressed. </p><p>Still, he was braced; he was almost always braced for chaos, in general, but on tour he was never completely capable of calming down. </p><p>Which is why, when Mollymauk showed up right before the start of the Paris show, he was so unsurprised and prepared for shit to hit  the fan that the complete lack of shock almost left him aching.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"...and I'll be honest with you, sir, though I hardly know you. I am afraid. Afraid of my own obscurity. I think that's why I came back. Well, not back, you understand." </p><p>Caduceus nodded calmly. </p><p>The person talking animatedly in front of him continued undeterred. "I've been in Paris for…many months. I was sure I'd sent a letter to Caleb. But, wait, what was it you asked me again?"</p><p>"Well," replied Caduceus, looking down at his chest to take a deep breath. “I merely wondered if you'd purchased a backstage pass."</p><p>"Ah, yes. I didn't, no. But I'm sure if you can just grab Yasha, she'll be able to vouch for me. Mollymauk Tealeaf? I promise to be a very good little fanlette and wait right here while you go ask her."</p><p>"It's not that I wouldn't, if I could, Mr. Tealeaf," returned Cad, letting his voice drop an octave in gravity. "It's just that Yasha is previously engaged and I had very clear instructions to keep people here unless they had a backstage—" </p><p>"Oh for <em>fuck’s</em> sake. Let me talk to Jes then. Or, is Caleb around? It's not that I'm not impressed with how well you're doing your job, or how tall you are for that matter. But to be perfectly honest, this is fucking insane. I'm family. I'm <em>crew</em>." </p><p>It was true that Caduceus still had very few details about what had happened with this particular purple haired, extremely tattooed individual. Yet he knew that he was making the right decision not letting him in quite yet. He knew the whole team loved Mollymauk; that half of them were at least a little bit in love with them, though even he could admit that his understanding of that was rocky at best. </p><p>Still, he stood here in front of this attempt at an intimidating situation, where he had at least a two foot advantage, and was unsure what step he took next. His usual tactic had worked so far. Deep, slightly challenging voice. Firm insistence. Resolute refusal. It's what Beau had recommended. Her voice chimed in his ear now; 'anything gets more complicated, you call me.'</p><p>But, as he stood with his finger on the radio, poised to make the quick call that would absolve him, Mollymauk sighed. </p><p>It was a sound that froze Clay to his spot for a moment. He hadn’t heard a sigh that disappointed and disapproving in many years. It chilled his spine and dragged him forcibly back many years. A time when his own father had wielded that sound like a particularly heavy weapon. Every time it happened, Caduceus could be sure he had done something unsatisfactory. He’d half completed a task before getting distracted by a particularly lovely butterfly. He’d finished dinner and was staring off into space, contemplating his favourite tree seed, when someone was trying to speak to him. He’d neglected a customer in favour of blending some herbs. Whatever the problem, he was sure that his father’s great, heaving disappointed breath would waft down on him before he’d had time to correct it. </p><p>The particular tenure of this sigh now made him angry. He was completely and totally just doing his job. Regardless of what had passed before, there was a solid and indisputable fact in his favour; Molly was not on the bus and Cad was. Whatever else remained true, he knew that he was making the right decision. He needed to see this through, needed Beau— and Fjord, for that matter— to see that he had done his best to stop things from becoming dramatic in ‘the city right before they got Yasha’. The whole crew had been fretting over it for almost a week. </p><p>"Why don't you come with me,” he finally said darkly.</p><p>He walked the purple person down the hallway at an unnecessarily quick pace. Which meant that when he found Beau lounging outside the greenroom door, she stood quickly to attention in surprise. He didn’t stick around long enough to find out if the surprise was for his anger or for Mollymauk. He nodded to her once and turned on his heel, walking away quickly. He needed to be outside. Now. </p><p>He passed Nott in the hallway, carrying a multitude of microphone packs and muttering about bad sound guys, and when she looked up at him, he tried to smile back. </p><p>“What’s wrong, Caduceus,” she asked, concerned. </p><p>“Beau probably needs your help. I need some air.” </p><p>She nodded at him solemnly, without asking any further questions, and his heart swelled a tiny bit for the small women and her secrets. </p><p>He took himself to the parking lot, looked at the small bank of trees beyond and made the quick decision to not go there without some tea. Five minutes on the bus fixed that and he had calmed down significantly by the time the concert actually started. These were usually moments he took for himself. The feeling of being anywhere near the crowd and the noise just made him claustrophobic, and since his non-descript job title didn’t expect much of him during the actual shows, he ended up in many parking lots. </p><p>Hours passed by. The concert goers eventually streamed past him, headed to the metro or their cars parked half a mile away. The bus was in a back, cordoned off area, but it didn’t stop the excited crowd from mingling in forgotten areas, drunken or excited French washing over him. He figured he probably needed to go and get to the hotel. It had to be late, and he would be needed in whatever the band decided was called morning. Quana demanded odd things the morning after a city show; whole kumquats on a plate, buckwheat smoothies. It was never hard to find the things he need to, but he’d need to be ready for it. </p><p>He pulled his folding chair back to the bus and threw it unceremoniously into the luggage rack. He was still unsettled, but he was Clay; he could tuck that away. </p><p>To his surprise, he found Fjord sitting in the lobby of the hotel, a mug held precariously balanced on the arm of an extravagant plush arm-chair. He approached quietly, sat down gently across from him. The look of frustrated contemplation he found begged not to be disturbed, and yet he couldn’t quite find it in himself to leave well enough alone. </p><p>As though coming out of a trance, Fjord shook himself slightly and gave a tight, weary smile to Clay as he noticed him.</p><p>“Surprised to find you here so early, Mr Fjord. Show go okay?” </p><p>Fjord shrugged. “It’s Paris. Nothing ever goes wrong in Paris.” </p><p>“Glad to hear it,” Caduceus continued softly. He sat back in his chair and he waited. </p><p>Fjord put down his mug and rubbed at his temples, leaning back as well. </p><p>"I'll be honest, Clay. Molly turning up wasn't exactly what any of us needed right now."</p><p>“I kinda figured that,” he continued. </p><p>Fjord closed his eyes. “A head’s up would have been appreciated, that’s all. I, uh, I ran into Nott screaming in the hallway five minutes to curtain instead.” </p><p>“I...oh,” Caduceus replied. He was such an idiot. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit, he hadn’t even thought. “Of course. I’m sorry.” </p><p>Fjord nodded and sat up. Picked up his tea again. He gestured to a pot Caduceus hadn’t noticed before and watched as he poured himself a cup. The terse offer was confusing, but it seemed that he’d been told to stay, and Caduceus wasn’t about to do anything to make the evening worse.</p>
<hr/><p>Fjord was being short with Clay and he honestly didn't know why. They hadn't even been on the road together, Clay and Molly. None of the tension in the air was because of the bubblegum man. If he were a good manager, he would be explaining as best he could and then reassuring the very new member of his crew. Truthfully, there wasn’t going to be any big drama; Mollymauk wasn’t staying, he’d see to that, and really, even the original leaving hadn’t been anyone’s fault. They’d all learned lessons on that last tour. It was going to be fine. Fjord tried taking a deep breath and sat back again. </p><p>Clay took a long sip of tea. No one should look as relaxed as he did on a hotel lobby chair, across from an agitated manager. But then, Caduceus looked relaxed everywhere he went. He owned spaces. It made Fjord jealous sometimes, since he literally never felt that at home. </p><p>"This Mollymauk seems to be complicated for everyone," Cad said gently. "I confess, I find it confusing. They seem a bit…did they leave you behind too?" </p><p>Fjord considered the odd and perfectly Caduceus question. Was that was he was upset? He wasn’t even sure, if he was honest with himself. </p><p>"I mean, in a way, they left us all behind." </p><p>"No, I meant. Is your history here as complicated as Caleb's?" </p><p>"What, with Molly? God...no. I mean, no. I just...uh, Mollymauk is—well, I mean, they're just not exactly my type." </p><p>Fjord cleared his throat as quietly as he could. His mouth was suddenly dry and he desperately wished he hadn't finished his tea so quickly. </p><p>"Well, that makes sense," Clay agreed, nodding sagely. "Beau told me about Avantika."</p><p>Fjord choked on what little spit he had remaining. "She what?"</p><p>"Well," Clay continued. "I think she just needed someone to talk to. It was last week. She couldn’t sleep. She worries about you, you know. She's like...well, if you're the captain, she's your first mate, right? She told me about Avantika breaking your—"</p><p>Fjord inhaled so sharply that his nostrils cried in protest, but it seemed enough to make Caduceus pause, so he spit out his objection before he lost the will. He had no idea how much or what parts of this story Beau had spilled out to Clay in one of her late night, insomnia-fuelled stupor, but he was confident that all of it was more than he’d wanted him to know. </p><p>"Listen, Cad," he said as calmly as he could manage. "I'm not sure what you were told, but let's be clear here. Avantika is responsible for destroying Beau's career. And maybe also my reputation with the label. That's it. Nothing else." </p><p>Caduceus peered at him with those tell all eyes, and it was all he could do not to drag him down to sit beside him on the floor of the lobby and spill out the entire story. They locked eyes for an eternity. Or, what amounted to a few seconds, in reality. </p><p>"Okay," Caduceus returned finally. His normal nonchalance seemed to be missing. His cheeks had colour he’d never noticed before, and he looked at the ground right after he spoke. </p><p>"Seriously," Fjord reiterated. </p><p>Clay looked up at him, imploring. When he spoke again, his calm demeanor had returned. He was unreadable when he replied. </p><p>"I should know better than to listen to gossip. So... Molly being here. Do we need to worry about Caleb?"</p><p>"...Yeah, probably," Fjord said more forcefully than he'd meant to. He was suddenly very, very tired. "Caduceus, is your room okay? You'll be comfortable and everything?"</p><p>"Of course. I'm not fussy about—"</p><p>"Excellent," he interrupted. "I'm pretty wiped. I'm going to turn in. G'night." </p><p>"I...okay. Goodnight, Mister Fjord."</p><p>"I....yeah, okay. Goodnight." </p><p>He backed away from the hallway, leaving a baffled member of his crew behind. But he couldn't help it. He needed to get away. Away from Clay, and conversations about Avantika, and the considerable concern brought on by Molly's sudden appearance. Not that he wasn't happy to see them. Technically, this was a good thing. The whole crew together again! But Yasha would be back any day, and the last time Molly had unceremoniously abandoned them... </p><p>Fjord cursed quietly to himself all the way up the lift. He clenched his fists. He paced. He understood as little as Clay likely did about why he'd so abruptly abandoned their perfectly civil conversation about the well being of a dear friend. The undertones of whatever he'd said and done were not lost on him, but as usual, he'd misplaced all his suave smoothness when he fucking needed it the most. He was furious with himself that he hadn't even been able to recover from the Avantika conversation, let alone make things about someone other than himself.</p><p>"Why, you asshole," he muttered to himself as he closed and locked his room door. He kicked the door jamb for good measure, letting it ring out satisfyingly. </p><p>'Why do you have to destroy everything that is good and right and...simple. Happy. Why can't you just be the person they need you to be, for five minutes." </p><p>He found the envelope he'd stored in his suitcase, that day when they'd all gone to the venue before him. It had stayed there, innocently untouched, for weeks. Weeks of no temptation whatsoever. No problem at all.</p><p>He took it out. Put it on the dresser. Sat on the bed and stared at it. Crossed his legs. Steepled his fingers. And just.</p><p>Stared.</p><p>Finally, he found the will to pick up his phone. He dialed the number he knew off by heart. When a groggy voice answered, he murmured the code. </p><p>"U'katoa."</p><p>"I'll be right there."</p>
<hr/><p>When she'd said <em>right there, </em>he hadn't anticipated the knock arriving less than 20 minutes later. She must have already been in France, which was less surprising than he would have liked. </p><p>"You know, I am a little annoyed with you," she said the second he opened the door. "I thought it was going to be months before you called. I've lost rather a lot of money in the office pool."</p><p>"Ava," Fjord said wearily, stepping aside to let her into the room. He had to be quick. There could be Nein in the room at any moment. </p><p>"Darling, you look like shit — if you'll excuse my crass language a moment. The road is not suiting you like it used to."</p><p>"Why thank you."</p><p>"So. Have you reconsidered my offer?" </p><p>"You know I haven't. Three shows. You get Berlin, Rostock, and Warunde." She eyed him with laughter already in her eye. He took a breath before he lost his nerve. "Take it or leave it." </p><p>Avantika chuckled at him. She swept her long red hair over a shoulder and perched on his bed. He sighed, rubbing his temple. He'd obviously known she wasn't going to make this easy but fuck. Did she have to do everything in such an obviously flirtatious way? It made every interaction painful. </p><p>"Listen to you," she teased. "<em>Take it or leave it.</em> You always did think you had a choice in this, didn't you?" </p><p>"Avantika, please." </p><p>"Germany? You're giving me <em>Germany</em> and you think he'll be satisfied?" </p><p>"A major city and a port town. Always her best crowds. Plus, the university. It's a good deal, Ava. At least ask him." </p><p>She laughed again, leaning back further so that, if anyone were to see her now, the word 'lounging' would be the first that came to mind. </p><p>"Fine. I'll bring it to him. The Orbs could certainly do with a show or two. In fact, I have a deep sense that even <em>one</em> show for them would result in the freeing up of some creative talent." </p><p>"Even just one song," Fjord pleaded. "One song from the new album and I promise it would be beneficial to both of us." </p><p>"You know she didn't have to sign that contract," Avantika chastised with an audible <em>tisk.</em> "Beau has only herself to blame. Well. That and her blind loyalty to you, I suppose. But that's hardly the labels fault.</p><p>Fjord sighed. "Yeah. Trust me. I am aware."</p><p>"Now, enough, darling. You know there's nothing more I can do tonight. You look exhausted. Come. Sit. I'll—" </p><p>"Ava, just go. You have the papers. Call me tomorrow." </p><p>She pouted at him in the least sincere way he'd ever seen a mouth move as she stood and marched herself to the door. He could say a great many thing about Avantika Tiffan, but she knew when a game was up. </p><p>And this game had been up for too long. </p><p>"Hey," he said softly as she grabbed the door handle. She paused to look at him, just as he'd known she would. "Its not personal. You know that right?" </p><p>"Of course, <em>captain</em>. Different ships in different waters, and who knows. We could have been the ones who were really in charge, hey?" </p><p>He smiled ruefully. "A guy can dream." </p><p>"Never thought of you as a dreamer. I'll call you in the morning, darling. Get some sleep. You really do look like shit." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Caduceus woke up, bleary-eyed, to insistent knocking at his unlocked hotel door. He probably should have locked it, in retrospect. It was so unusual for him to even think about keeping things out. But this was the seventh night in a row he'd forgotten and he was unsure, still, how much he cared. He called for the person to come in as he dragged his shirt off the floor where he'd discarded it the night before. Right after he'd decided <em> not </em>to go after Fjord, in fact, but he was pretty sure he wanted to leave that particular thought process firmly in the midnight light. </p><p>"Oh, Cad. Sorry. I thought you'd be up. You usually are." </p><p>He chuckled. He usually <em> was </em>, and the thought of how much he'd changed of late made him feel light and somewhat carefree. </p><p>"No bother, Beauregard," he replied lightly, swinging himself out of bed. "Everything alright." </p><p>She beamed at him. "We need to go on a road trip. Want to come?" </p><p>He looked at her, puzzled. "Aren't we already on a road trip?" </p><p> "You're right. Fine. This is more of a, uh, field trip, then." </p><p>"Sounds like an adventure." </p><p>"I assure you, it won't be. But Caleb is coming and I can promise you that you won't want to be around when Fjord finds Molly this morning." </p><p>He grimaced, held up a finger, and found some new pants to throw on in the bathroom. Ten minutes later, they were careening around corners in eccentric Paris traffic, with Caleb nestled quietly in the back seat of the red rented convertible Beau had pulled up to the hotel exit. Caduceus sat beside Beau, trying his best to remain serene and not look like he was holding on. Which he definitely was. </p><p>"So, where are we headed?" he asked innocently through partially clenched teeth. </p><p>"I convinced Yasha to get an earlier flight," Caleb answered crispy from the back, only just loud enough to be heard. He had his hands clenched in his lap, and despite his open blazer and haphazardly carefree scarf, he had tension coiled in his whole body. </p><p>Caduceus nodded but didn't press for details. In part because he didn't care, and in part because he didn't want to make Caleb expand. When they finally made it to the outside of the city, the open roads allowed Beu to settle down. They drove for 20 more minutes in the cool, airy sunshine before Caduceus managed to relax. Peering back, he found Caleb asleep, his arms finally at rest by his sides. </p><p>"Don't think he got much sleep last night," Beau smirked. </p><p>"He seems… tense?" </p><p>"Well, tenser than normal, I guess. He's always a little wound." </p><p>Caduceus nodded. He'd noticed that. "Is it Mollymauk?" </p><p>"Absolutely. They left without a goodbye last time. But Caleb… I'm pretty sure Caleb hadn't let himself feel for anyone in a while. He took it harder than us. And I mean… wait, did Fjord tell you any of this?" </p><p>Caduceus shook his head. "You don't have to either if you don't want to." </p><p>"No, it's not that. It's just complicated. Mollymauk wasn't really given a choice. In leaving? They were trying to protect us all. We mostly forgave them. Caleb, though. He was heartbroken. And Yasha… they'd been through a lot together. She didn't understand. I think it's why Caleb got her to come out now. And Fjord…" </p><p>Beau cut herself off, glancing sidelong at Caduceus. "Remember what I said about Avantika? The manipulation? The… the broken trust? Fjord doesn't heal from that sort of thing." </p><p>"I've noticed." </p><p>She sighed, running her hands across the wheel in agitation. "Listen, Cad. You know I like you. I trust you. You're… well, you fit right in here to be honest. But Fjord…" She shook her head and checked her blindspot, leaving a pregnant silence between them as she pulled into an exit lane. "What I mean to say is...you might be waiting a while. He's not exactly…available? You know?"<br/><br/>She eyed him as carefully as she could while driving. The experience was unnerving, and Caduceus inwardly shuddered.</p><p>"Trust me," she continued. "I know what it feels like to want the unavailable one." </p><p>"It's not the same," Caleb murmured from the back.</p><p>"It's not the same as Yasha. She loves you. You know that. She's just not ready to understand what that means."</p><p>Beau's gaze flickered back to Caleb through the rearview, and she sighed a heavy, weary sigh that seemed out of place on her lithe, energetic frame. She nodded and signalled as she pulled into the terminal. </p><p>"I just mean, don't get discouraged. He's worth figuring out. It just might suck at first," she finished a moment later. </p><p>"Forgive me," Caduceus muttered, voice pitched low as they pulled into a spot in the arrivals lane. "I don't know what you're talking about." </p><p>As she pulled the keys from the ignition, Beau smiled at him gently, reaching out to ruffle his unkempt hair. </p><p>"I know. But you will. And I don't want to lose you in the meantime."</p><p>Uncharacteristically, he felt himself tear up. He smiled instead of acknowledging the emotion.</p><p>After a few minutes, the terminal doors opened again to reveal a woman almost as tall as him, intricate braids flapping in the sudden wind around a beautiful leather coat. She beamed as she saw the car, and hoisted a small duffle bag higher on her shoulder to wave. </p><p>"Yasha," Beau called loudly. </p><p>"Hello, Beauregard," she smiled back. </p><p>Beau hopped out and approached with a strange amount of caution and hesitation. It was so unlike her, the weird, quiet meekness with which she approached. They conversed in quiet tones. Yasha shoved her hands in the pocket of her jacket, Beau scuffed her toe on the earth. </p><p>"Caleb," Caduceus said, turning to the back to find the man in dark sunglasses gazing at the horizon to the left. "Why am I here?" </p><p>He'd thought to perhaps surprise Caleb. Instead, the sound manager turned to him, removed his glasses, and gazed at him. </p><p>"Come for a walk with me," he suggested. </p><p>"But…the car?" </p><p>Caleb chuckled. "They will stand there pretending they are talking for the next ten minutes. We have time. <em> Bitte </em>."</p><p>Caduceus nodded and opened his door. Caleb jumped the door in a shocking display of athleticism. He wandered up and hugged Yasha tightly, his head resting across her sternum as she returned the embrace. He muttered something to Beau, who nodded and then gestured to Cad to follow him. </p><p>They wandered across the traffic barrier, into the field of dehydrated and dying grass near a parking structure. Caduceus hated airports. They never signalled good things; someone leaving, someone arriving to tell him what to do with his life. Loud, noisy places. Full of anonymity in the worst way, devoid of nature in an even more terrible way. But Caleb seemed content, and he tried to take a deep breath and steady himself. </p><p>"They don't really mean to not tell you things," he began. "I think they both enjoy having someone fresh around. Someone who doesn't know their<em> …geschichten </em>? Their history." </p><p>Caduceus knew the word. He knew it could mean history. He knew it could also mean stories. He didn't interject. </p><p>"But I don't agree. They should have told you what you were into. It should have been your choice." </p><p>"It's really okay, Caleb," Caduceus insisted. "Everyone has history." </p><p>"Not everyone's history is illegal and full of violence," Caleb replied darkly. "You aren't surprised?" he noted at Caduceus' silence. </p><p>"As I said, everyone has a story." </p><p>Caleb nodded, reserved. He lit a cigarette apologetically and aimed it carefully away from Caduceus. "Fjord was a young man once. He made a…a bad deal. He met Beau. He brought her into the bad deal. There have been people involved in their story since long before we all ended up as a family." </p><p>"Avantika?" </p><p>He waved his hand at him. "A pawn. She is almost meaningless. Fjord believed she had more power than she does. He might still, to be frank. But she does not. The deal is almost complete, though."</p><p>"As complete as these deals ever are." </p><p>Caleb made an <em> exactly </em> gesture at him with his smoke, exhaling slowly. "There's more. I don't want to get into that. It's for him to explain. But Molly…they're all angry at Molly. I understand why. They don't think I do. I do. It's just…I also understand <em> more."  </em></p><p>"Can you…I don't want to push. But I don't understand why they're so mad at Molly." </p><p>"Abandonment doesn't sit well with the <em>Nein</em>," Caleb said acerbically. "Usually I agree. Maybe I should here, too. Only…"</p><p>He exhaled and looked away. Silence passed between them. </p><p>"Only, love," Caduceus said gently.</p><p>Caleb scrubbed the back of his neck, colour high in his cheeks. "That obvious, is it?" </p><p>Caduceus shrugged. He didn't care. </p><p>"Yes. I guess. Molly was…they were attacked. They were also stupid and rash and defending a thing that didn't need defending. They thought leaving would keep the rest of us safe. It was wrong. It was stupid to leave in the middle of the night. But. We all make choices." </p><p>"And now? Is everyone safe now?"</p><p>Caleb nodded. "Now, yes. Money talks, as they say. Leylas was furious. Nothing more will happen. The Bright Queen's tours make enough money that not even The Orbs would dare — but again, not my place." </p><p>"I appreciate your candour," Caduceus said honestly.</p><p>He appraised Caleb and his cigarette with a newfound understanding. Mollymauk was not <em> everything </em> that made Caleb who he was. The nervous energy, the fervent glances, the long periods of silence. Still, this, and their love, love was certainly <em> part </em>of it. The apprehensive ginger-haired man was slightly easier to read than he had a few minutes ago and Caduceus found he was genuinely grateful to know him. </p><p>"Beau's right, you know, Caleb continued after a lapsed silence. "Fjord trusts you. It is not an honour he bestows on many. Almost no one, in fact. And certainly not this quickly." </p><p>"What is it you and Beau are both so determined to warn me about?" Caduceus asked after a moment. "My role here is only to keep the crew as happy and healthy as possible."</p><p>Caleb laughed his stark and genuine laugh, once again stubbing out his smoke but this time linking arms with Caduceus as he led him back to the car. It was, Cad was sure, the first time the other man had allowed any physical contact between them. </p><p>"And you do it well, my tall, pink-haired friend. I think, though, that you will understand when I remind you that yours was Mollymauk's role before you," he said meaningfully. "Beau and I have both been here before."</p><hr/><p>Fjord found Molly in their room, surprisingly alone. Nott had been sitting outside, on the floor, as though on guard. He knew Caleb had gone with Beau to the airport. It was as</p><p>good a time as any when he chose to knock and confront his life choices head-on. Mollymauk sat up abruptly when he bound in after a quick rap on the unlocked door. They were smaller than Ford remembered. Skinnier. Shorter. It was maybe just the fact that Molly always seemed larger than life that made their physical appearance less impressive when met. Fjord marched up to the bed and Molly stood uncertainly.</p><p>All the words he'd planned to use, all his anger, fled the second he saw the look on Molly's face. Fjord just he embraced them tightly, his whole body wrapped around Molly in a crushing hug. </p><p>"Welcome back," he grumbled. "Don't you ever leave like that again." </p><p>When he finally let them go. Ford found himself trembling as he stepped back. </p><p>Mollymauk smiled sadly. "What? That's it? What will I tell the others about our reunion when they ask?"</p><p>"You tell him whatever you need to," Fjord returned grumpily. </p><p>Mollymauk grinned more genuinely. "I think I'll tell them that you threatened me with an inch of my life. Told me if I ever left again, you would hunt me down and kill me. It's better for your ruthless leader image." </p><p>Fjord smiled, sadness creeping into his eyes in spite of himself. "You tell them whatever you need to," he repeated. </p><p>Molly's face suddenly fell, all jovial teasing relinquished as they looked at the floor. </p><p>"I <em> am </em> sorry. I didn't—" </p><p>Fjord waved them off. "Save your apologies. Yasha is coming. You'll need them." </p><p>Molly's eyes went comically wide as they took a step back and sat on the bed. This was the appropriate response to hearing that Yasha was on her way to see them for the first time since they had left. Fjord chuckled darkly. </p><p>Despite her often not actually being <em> with </em>the Nein, they knew what her reactions looked like. Quiet and gentle much of the time, they knew better. Sure, they had all seen her happy, dancing, singing jovially backstage. They had also seen her tired, sad, hungry. They watched her do her job, calm until action was necessary to stop someone backstage. They had seen her take a man twice Fjord’s size by the collar and remove him, bodily, from the stadium, had seen her stop someone from trying to get through when they shouldn't have been there. For every emotion Fjord had seen on Yasha’s person, Mollymauk had seen ten more. And he knew as well as anyone that Mollymauk was ready for Yasha's arrival, or else they would not be sitting here in the hotel. </p><p>Fjord turned to leave the room, ready to get out of the hotel for the day. He was going to tell Nott to stop keeping watch, find Ley and remind her that they were moving on the next day. His mind reeled with the ten million little things he should probably be doing this afternoon. Just as his hand hit the handle, he thought of one other thing. </p><p>Without turning back he said calmly, “Molly? One more thing. If you ever leave me with Caleb like that again, vulnerable and alone? I will find you. I will kill you. Rip your throat out with my bare hands.” </p><p>Mollymauk sighed. “I suppose it means very little to hear it from me, but...I'm never planning on leaving him again.” <br/><br/>Fjord leaned his head against the cool wood of the door. “You’re right. It doesn’t mean much. Not yet,” he replied,  “but it will. Give it time.” </p><hr/><p>As she always seemed to, Jester saved his day; she found him wandering five minutes after he’d left Molly’s room. Chattering a mile a minute, he’d been dragged to the flower markets at the behest of Leylas, who had demanded flower crowns for the evening’s show. She skipped her way through the colourful offerings, distracting him effectively until she convinced him it was time for pastries. Pastries in Paris, being what it is, turned into a whole afternoon of coffee and bistro patios, a long-winded adventure to find the wild cherry tart Jester had had in her last trip to the city, and getting back just in time for crowns to be made and stage checks to begin. </p><p>He spent the night in the booth with Nott. The show was much smaller, a different venue. As soon as they took to the stage, he understood the desire for the crowns. The band were all wearing long, flowing frocks. They were effervescent and yet ethereal. Their set was quiet at first, spreading into noise and light and sound. Beside him in the tiny space, Nott expertly manoeuvred the cues she and Caleb had long ago perfected. It was a sight to behold. </p><p>“Can I ask you a question,” she suddenly said to him without looking up from the board. <br/><br/>“Always.”</p><p>“Are we in danger still?”</p><p>Fjord stopped short. He was used to questions from Caleb. But Nott? He braced himself and shook his head. </p><p>“I took care of it,” he said. <br/><br/>“When?” <br/><br/>“Germany.” <br/><br/>“Okay,” she said shortly, nodding. “Can I tell Caleb?” <br/><br/>“I’ll...I was going to tell everyone. We— <em> I </em> just decided.” <br/><br/>“Fjord,” Nott said with warning and anger in her tone. “She was <em> here. </em> Why didn’t you tell someone? Did Beau know.” <br/><br/>“Nott…” <br/><br/>She waved him off and turned back to the board. The band was prepping for their final song before the encore. The applause cut off whatever Nott said next. </p><p>“Pardon?” he said as they started the first chords. “I <em> said </em> , you should tell Caduceus first.” <br/><br/>“What?” he said, baffled. “Why?” <br/><br/>“Because he’ll help you look less terrified when you tell the others.” <br/><br/>Fjord snorted. “Why do you think that?” <br/><br/>She shrugged. “Dunno. He just seems to have that effect on you. You tell me.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>From Paris, they moved southeast, towards Sweden, Austria, Prague. It was a predictable tour path, but Fjord was already antsy. Their caravan subtly picked up a third coach bus shortly after arriving in Lyon, and the fact that Mollymauk was the first person to notice sent a shiver of annoyance down his spine. The bus was feeling hot and small, and he finally threw himself into a bunk to try and sleep in the middle of the day. It wasn’t his strong suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an hour before he gave up on his nap and threw open the curtain. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Alright,” he announced into the moving apartment, far louder than the small space warranted. “Enough. Everyone, assemble.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>"Uhh, Fjord?" Beau replied, gesturing around her to the fact that everyone else was already gathered. "What's going on, friend? We’re barely able to step over each other. Don’t feel like the announcement is necessary." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the crew quieted. Caleb put down his textbook and, consequently, woke Mollymauk from their nap in his lap. Nott stopped sorting through the random cables she was holding and Yasha stuck her head out from the bunk below his, where she has been gently strumming her ukulele. Caduceus was the only one who didn't stop what he was doing. He stood beside the small sink, stirring something slowly in a bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord hoisted himself down slowly and leaned on the back wall of the bus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know why I didn't tell you. It's not like you haven't noticed. We've got company." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau stood up suddenly, knocking her notebook to the ground. "Why didn't you tell me you were calling?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord sighed and shook his head. "It's two more shows. Then they'll release the music." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I told you," Molly muttered to Caleb, who swatted their head and shushed them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The coach sat silent for a moment before Yasha sat up and moved to grip Fjord's shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do we have a choice?" she said quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook his head. "Not in the performances. But in what comes after? I don't know." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caleb looked back at him. "I…I have been thinking about it since last time…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Me too," chimed in Nott. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Guys, I appreciate it but I won't let you all be in danger for no reason. This is my mess. It's bad enough you're all as involved as you are." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They don't have the right. You paid them back years ago," Beau growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Interest is interest," he sighed. His shoulders felt heavy and his chest was tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were all watching him; they probably weren't waiting for an inspirational speech or reassurance. Not this time. But the urge to do it anyway was strong. He inhaled to say something when Caduceus suddenly huffed out a small chuckle. They all turned to look at him, mystified. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry," he muttered when he noticed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What exactly is funny?" Nott demanded. "You do know what we're talking about, right?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus shrugged. "I've guessed. Thugs. Criminals. Right?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau's head shifted just enough that Fjord could practically feel her coiled and ready to attack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doesn't take much to figure out," Caduceus continued in his normal, disinterested tone. "You assume I don't understand you all. Or that I don't listen. I'm not exactly simple, you know." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They watched him stop stirring, pull down the pile of mugs that sat beside the sink, ubiquitous and always clean. He poured a dark, frothy liquid into them one by one as the rest of the crew looked on in silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So I figure, we need to do two things," Caduceus continued as he poured. "First, we let these shows happen. Now, I admit, I'm unclear about what is going on there. But you all seem very resigned to those so I guess we just continue as you are. And second…well, second, we stop letting a bunch of bullies push you all around. I think, as a team, we can figure that out. Don't you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deafening silence of the coach made Fjord shiver. There was just so much simple determination to the statement. The tone was the same as if he had suggested they all go to lunch, but the </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling </span>
  </em>
  <span>behind the sentiment was made of ice and power. Caduceus had never sounded so perfectly capable of doing exactly as he wished. It was frightening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Caduceus," Beau said patiently. "It's not really that simple." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh? Why? What are they doing?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nott interjected. "What are they doing? What are they </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Look no offence, new guy, but you don't really get to walk in here and tell us we aren't handling our own stuff properly." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nott</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Caleb said calmly. "She is just…they have always been in charge. We are paid by them, Caduceus. Their 'band' appears for two or three shows a tour. It's not really a performance. They play a few songs on stage, and then they take the whole night's profit. It's…it's a sort of cleaning project. "</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah. Money laundering," Caduceus said with a nod. Caleb jolted. "Have they been paid back?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord laughed humourlessly. "Like that matters." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can <em>make</em> it matter," Caduceus muttered to the floor, not meeting anyone's eye. He picked up his bowl again and poured the last of the liquid. "If you'll trust me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nott cleared her throat. The rest of the bus remained silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mexican hot chocolate?" Caduceus finished, gesturing to the mugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mollymauk suddenly burst into uproarious laughter. They all turned to look at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why do I feel like he might actually be able to fix this?" Molly asked through laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like that, they were all off. Caduceus stared at them all, shook his head, and — apparently giving up on them getting it themselves — began handing out the hot chocolate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord took his mug but grabbed Caduceus by the wrist as well. The gesture caught them both off guard, and Cad’s eyes burned holes into Fjord’s soul. He immediately let go, his hand phantom burning where the skin had met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look, I appreciate your positivity here, Cad, but these guys aren't… I didn't just walk out and forget to pay my bill." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I figured, yeah," Cad said with a smile, looking down at his wrist and sighing. He turned back to the generally gathered group.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look, it's time I told you all something," he said carefully. "When I might Quana, I had just been released from prison. For extortion. Of a crime family." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau laughed a short, disbelieving laugh into the room that had just quieted. She curled up in her seat with her hot chocolate and snorted again. "No offence, C, but if you're trying to hide your past from us, you're going to need to do better than 'extortion of a crime family' while we drink the </span>
  <em>
    <span>cocoa</span>
  </em>
  <span> you just made us. Be real, man.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is very delicious," Yasha added quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beau smiled at her. “It is, which is why… I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>crime.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You have told us how much time you spent in the woods, dude.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus sighed a deep sigh that was very unlike himself. Like he was bracing himself for something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My father is part of a rather large syndicate family in the north of Wales,” he exhaled. His voice was no more than a growl. “He raised us away from it all, my sisters and I. We owned a small campground. Ten cabins and a shop. A few spaces for caravans. It turned into something popular. Like, a tourist attraction. My mother ran it and he was never there. I didn't know where our profits came from until the family showed up after he died suddenly to take payment." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence fell around Caduceus for a brief moment. It was broken when Nott leapt up in her seat and threw her hands in the air in victory, nearly spilling what remained in her mug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I knew it!" She shouted. "I knew it. No one stays that calm without some ridiculous past. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She </span>
  </em>
  <span>thought you were some sort of forest monk.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus chuckled darkly. "Not many monasteries would be interested in my form of medicine." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Caduceus, you don't owe us a story. Though I, for one, appreciate your trust in us," Caleb interjected. "We trust you, too. Fjord just wants to have these last two shows happen and then we can all move on. Hopefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus eyed Caleb carefully. Cocked his head to the side. Waited him out. When their gazes finally met, Cad nodded his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I would wager, Mr Caleb, that you know better than the others why that won't work. That isn't how these things </span>
  <em>
    <span>work. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They don't leave you alone." He turned to face Fjord. "You know it too, don't you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord looked at the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I lost everything because I didn't act until it was too late," Caduceus said darkly. "I can do this. You just have to let me help." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was finally Yasha who broke the silence that fell over the bus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think, maybe, it can't hurt to try? Does anyone else feel like that?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If nothing else," added Nott, "I'd personally love to never see Avantika again." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I won't let you," Fjord growled. "I will not let you all take on my danger or my debt. Right now, it only involves my </span>
  <em>
    <span>job, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that’s bad enough</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You can't confront them. I won't allow it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caduceus gave a rare laugh at that and turned to back to clap Fjord on the shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sir, I've been here for three weeks and I can already tell you this — you can't stop any of these people from acting like idiots if they want to. And I can proudly say that I am one of them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fjord sighed wearily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't worry,” Cad grinned. “I have a plan." </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next two weeks of shows went relatively smoothly. Caduceus started understanding what the others had been talking about; the nights blurred together and there were few differences between the hotels. The schedule for the interior countries of Europe was intense. More often than not, they actually just slept in shifts on the bus, curled into bunks and chairs, running between venues. It was a pace that Caduceus had never experienced in his life. </p><p>His childhood had been complicatedly idyllic; on the surface, it was clean and filled with nature. Weird mismatched schooling left him with enough ability to read, write, and compute, but more importantly, the ability to independently learn anything he needed to know when he needed to know it. He spent his time running the forest with his siblings, swimming in the lake with a variety of long-time guests, the children he grew up with constantly shifting. It was perfect, in its way. It was only when he thought long enough about it that he could punch through and find the gaps, the holes in the story he was fed.</p><p>Like the ‘uncles’ that would show up and make his mother cry before staying the night in the fancy cabin. Or the fact that they always had what they needed, always had workers and construction projects and new tools, even though by the time he was ten, Caduceus was sure that the campground could not be making all that much money. His mother, too, was strange in her way. She would insist to him and his siblings that their father loved them dearly, but as soon as he arrived — always without warning and transporting any number of ‘coworkers’ through his mother’s spotless kitchen — he would disappear into the converted trailer out back of the store and barely speak to any of them until he left again, invariably just a few short years later. </p><p>Still, the attitude he carried into the world with him, almost by accident, was one of calm, peace. Tranquillity. He could always be relied upon to keep a level head. </p><p>As the days wore on, with show after show including a new set of security that <em>certainly </em>wasn’t Yasha-approved, the others became visibly more anxious. Each day, with the extra bus always just at the end of everyone’s vision, the calm and level side of Caduceus got...antsy. He was going to have to do <em>something. </em> There was only so much tea he could make. </p><p>When he ran into Leylas the day before they crossed into Germany, Caduceus was relatively convinced he was about to go crazy. He’d spent the day moving between every single one of the Nein in their tiny motel, putting out tiny fires they didn’t seem to know were burning. He’d talked Yasha out of fleeing the entire tour to go on a ‘walk’ by convincing her that his meditation playlist was actually really good. He’d managed to calm Nott down by feeding her lunch in the middle of the morning, a brie and fish sandwich that should have been disgusting but apparently was not. Caleb and Beauregard had been having a heated argument about...well, truthfully, about something that Caduceus had no understanding of whatsoever. But they’d been having it <em> loudly </em>. And in the middle of the parking lot. People had started gathering to watch. He’d stopped them with the simple suggestion that they go find some new snacks for the last leg of the tour. Beau was easily distracted by snacks, and Caleb was easily distracted from an argument he didn't think he was going to win. </p><p>The only person he hadn't seen was Fjord, and since he wasn't entirely sure what to do with the dark, brooding fear that lingered over the man's head, he wasn't entirely disappointed by that reality. </p><p>Leylas, however, was very <em> much </em> interested in where her tour manager was. Her hand on his shoulder weighed a little more than normal and worry furrowed her brow. </p><p>"Have they told you?" she began without preamble. When he nodded, she looked down. "I should have been the one to…" </p><p>"Don't. I signed myself up for—" </p><p>"Not for this Mr Clay. Not for this." </p><p>It was his surname that cleared up his hesitations, brought his plan to the forefront. It was simple, really. His name, as was so often the case, was suddenly a rusty old key at the bottom of a forgotten suitcase. Useless for an eternity, until the very moment it was needed. It was a name he rarely heard these days, though he never tried to hide it. A name that only a very specific crowd would even pause to hear. </p><p>"Leylas…I have a feeling that you were going to ask me something, just now," he said, his thoughts confirmed when her forehead buried itself into an even larger crevice. </p><p>"None of the questions feel like the right one. I hired you for the wellness of a crew that is now in danger. Do you have any idea what that — well, anyway. It's not important. I was actually just going to ask if you've seen Fjord. He's usually run show notes with me by now and I can't find him anywhere."</p><p>Caduceus shook his head. "Haven't seen him all day" he admitted, "which is also odd."</p><p>She nodded at him once and turned to go. </p><p>"Can you get me in front of someone who matters?" he blurted at her back. </p><p>She froze. Her hair was done up in intricate braids, messy as though she'd slept on them. They had Beau's signature handiwork about them, and it was clear that Leylas tried to save them, had haphazardly pinned fresh flowers to them this morning. She hadn't wanted to take them out. Everything about her today screamed delicacy and sensitivity, but one look in her eyes told you better. She was quick and ruthless. Leylas Kryn was a lot of things, but delicate was not one of them. Had that been the case, she never would have found him in that place, never would have known the right people to talk to or the right palms to grease.  They were only in this position because she <em> knew </em>the consequences of each action she made. He had a hard time believing that Fjord had ever acted alone. Which meant, of course, that she took the full and true meaning of his question on immediately.</p><p>As he had known she would. </p><p>He owed her nothing, and everything, so now he would trade it for the truth. </p><p>"Yes," she replied, simply.</p><p>"And?" </p><p>"Not until Berlin." She turned to shake her head at him. It was clear there was no room for discussion on the matter. "Then, I will see what I can do."</p><p>"And in the meantime?" </p><p>She turned to him once more. "Clay, in the meantime, I need you to <em>find</em> Fjord." </p><hr/><p>The room was dark, and there was a pit to the left of him. Just as there always was. He assumed it was a pit, at least, because there was always a subtle current of air like there had been at the quarry he remembered from his youth. That had always been a pit, too.  He moved from unconscious to awake with a jolt, though he didn't open his eyes. He knew it was pointless. The outside of his lids would reveal the same thing he was seeing now. Darkness, with an undercurrent of intentional fear. </p><p>He could <em>smell</em> Ava near him, which made him shudder slightly in disgust. He hated that he could pull that from the air, with so few external signals.</p><p>“Why do we do this,” he stated, not really a question. She chuckled at him. The dark thing groaned at him. </p><p>There was a tiny point of light somewhere beneath his right eye. He tested opening it. He’d been right, though; he couldn’t see a thing. Ava was to his left, her warm weight ever-present. It barely pulled back on the panicked cold he felt. He would never admit it when he was...well, awake? But he was terrified. </p><p>“What do you want, Ava?” <br/><br/>“Not me, darling.” <br/><br/>“Us,” rasped the <em> voice </em> . Fjord shivered again. “We want an audience with the <em> leader of the band. </em> ” <br/><br/>“We,” the second voice crumbled, "we want to hear it directly from you."<br/><br/>He suppressed his pain, his fear. He told himself the things he knew to be true, a trick from the panic attacks that had served him well.</p><p>
  <em> Their voices must be masked, or fake. Or both?  You are safe. You are likely drugged. Or bound. Or both?  </em>
</p><p>“You think you can draw out the contract,” Fjord spit, suddenly aware that they were waiting for him. “That you frighten me. That the terms are flexible. They aren’t. We have paid you back, interest included. So what’s next? You kill me? Go for it. Hold the album up? You must be smart enough to realize by now, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t do this for the tour. She would stop tomorrow if I disappeared. They would all follow her. You'd be out of her revenue, so you’ll be screwed anyway. Take Germany, Zehir.” <br/><br/>“You dare to address me,” the voice rasped. </p><p>“Yes!” interrupted Fjord. “I <em>address</em> you, you idiot. Because despite what you want to think, you are not a God. You are just a tiny part of a much wider world, one that will catch up to you, no matter how scary you make your names. Leviathan, Uk’atoa, great bloody serpents. It won’t matter if you can’t hold up your end of adeal. Have you honestly never watched a mob movie? You start breaking the deals now, you’ll end up with a stream of bodies and then you’ll run out of time. Besides which, you know as well as I do that you have to honour your contract this time—” <br/><br/>“I told you,” Ava drawled, interrupting Fjord’s fear-fueled rant. “He’s...different, somehow.” <br/><br/>“Hmm,” one of the voices rolled. “Fine. We will take Germany. We will release your precious little album.” <br/><br/>Fjord said nothing. There was a catch. He didn’t know what yet, but it would appear. It always did. </p><p>“...and?” he finally pressed. </p><p>“Nothing. Your contract will be finished.” <br/><br/>“Avantika has been very gracious in helping us understand your current...situation. Am I correct in thinking that no matter what happens next, you will not be with the band much longer?” <br/><br/>“I…” Fjord hadn’t told <em> anyone </em>of his decision to quit. Was he being obvious in some way?</p><p>“It doesn’t matter. You are right. You will be useless to us soon. And I suppose we always knew you would one day—” <br/><br/>But a terrible pounding noise interrupted the growling voice's monologue. The sound was sharp, intense. It split Fjord’s brain in two, made him grimace and curl into himself. The complete blackness turned inward, and he wanted to scream. He chose to vomit instead, feeling the disgusting heat as it left him and hit the floor. He was aware only of his name being called before he went unconscious once more.</p><hr/><p>“Fjord!” Caduceus shouted again, pounding with both fists this time on the thin metal of the old tour bus.</p><p> He didn’t even know why he was here. Surely it wasn’t entirely safe, but somehow, having checked every possible place for him and texted him far more times than was necessary or appropriate, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he needed to check on this mysterious, rusted out coach that had begun following them so recently. </p><p>“Fjord!” he called again, slamming his hands flat on the door. He so rarely spoke this loudly; it hurt his throat. He didn’t particularly like this level of alarm. It brought back rather unpleasant memories. </p><p>A small, ginger-beared man emerged a fraction of an inch from the door. “Can I help you?” he asked, eyes narrowed. <br/><br/>“Do you know where Fjord is?” he asked quietly. “Tour manager? About, oh I don’t know, yay high. Bright green hair?” <br/><br/>“I assure you, I don’t know who or what you are talking about. Can I ask who gave you permission to knock on our door?” </p><p>Caduceus rankled, his hair standing on edge as the man stared him down. He drew himself up to his full height, putting a hand in the crack of the door. <br/><br/>“Last I checked, you were in <em> our </em> caravan,” he murmured, his voice pitching dangerously low. He had dealt with far too many men of this type; small-minded, ego’s larger than their dicks. He would not be dealing with it. Not today. “Now, can you answer my relatively <em> simple </em> question? <em> Please. </em>” </p><p>The man glared at him, moving to pull the door closed. Just then a very familiar voice grumbled. Just loud enough that Caduceus held fast to the metal of the door. <br/><br/>“Think you’re going to want to let me in now,” he said lowly. </p><p>The man scoffed but stood aside. When Fjord stepped into the small bus, he immediately knew two things; one, he had been right to come. </p><p>And two, he had never been more furious in his entire life. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>